Sometimes love doesn’t end. It just freezes. That’s what Pedri thought, his forehead resting against the window of the private jet that had just taken off.

She was getting married today. To someone else. A perfect guy. Rich. Proper. Who looked at her as if he deserved her. But Pedri knew the truth: she still loved him.

He was a footballer.The best midfielder in the world, playing for Barcelona.He knew he could have anything.But he lost her once..

Yes, he had made mistakes. But watching her walk toward another altar, into a life that wasn’t hers… that was killing him.

So he stood up. Ordered a plane. Shouted in the WhatsApp group: “I’m going to stop the wedding.”

And yes, everyone thought he was crazy. But they followed him anyway.

Gavi drove the car. Ferran yelled from the back seat. Olmo brought flowers stolen from the hotel. Eric just asked if this was even legal.

And still, they made it. Barely. With engines burning hot and hearts even hotter.

The church was full. Expensive dresses. Lights. Important people. And at the end, Amina.

Beautiful. Untouchable. About to say “I do.”

Pedri slipped in through the back door, like a thief of unfinished stories. With his heart pounding, his steps steady, and his face broken.

The preacher raised his voice:

—Speak now or forever hold your peace.

And then Pedri walked forward. Trembling. Everyone stared. Shocked voices. Gasps. But he only looked at her.

She didn’t move. Didn’t say a word.

But her eyes… her eyes didn’t lie.

Pedri stopped in front of her. The world went silent.

And with a steady voice, almost whispering, he said:

—Don’t marry him, Amina. Let’s go. Anywhere. I’ll take care of the rest. But tell me you still want to leave with me.